Broken
by MockingJayFlyingFree
Summary: How do you mend someone who's broken? The story of Katniss and Peeta at the end of Mockingjay, pre-epilogue. **I'm writing a sequel to Broken now, please check it out!**
1. Chapter 1

_It's been __**forever**__ since I wrote fan fiction, but reading the Hunger Games books made me go return to the dark side! In fact, I haven't officially even finished reading Mockingjay, just browsed through the last pages (I'm very, very bad!), so if I write something that's slightly AU, that' s probably why. At this rate I'll finish the book in a day or two, though, so hopefully it won't be too bad. _

_This story takes place at the very end of Mockingjay, just before the epilogue. There is obviously a story waiting to be told there. I just wanted to do my own take on how Peeta and Katniss grow back together after everything they've been through. _

_The rating could very well go up in later chapters, we'll see. _

_I love reviews! _

How do you mend someone who's broken?

I don't know.

How, then, do you mend two?

We cling to each other every night. Sometimes we get some sleep, other nights are too filled with nightmares, mine or his or both. This night is one of them. The nightmares are his this time. I know I'm in them, because he keeps screaming my name. He usually does. I've tried to make him tell me about the nightmares, hoping it will help chase the shadows away – but he refuses to talk about them. Am I a threat in his dreams, or am I the one being threatened?

I think I have my answer without being told.

One of the first nights we shared a bed after his return from the Capitol, he nearly killed me. I tried to wake him from his nightmare, and I suddenly found myself being pinned to the bed, Peeta sitting on top of me, choking me. His eyes were glazed over, foggy, distant. My hands pinned down, unable to scream for help, I tried kicking him in the back, finding enough strength and oxygen for just a few failed attempts before I started fading away.

When I came to a few minutes later, gasping for air, my throat raw and hurting, Peeta was sitting in the shower, crying, naked. I stumbled into the bathroom, following the sound of the running shower, too hazy from my recent unconsciousness to consider perhaps running for help instead of going after him, considering he'd just nearly killed me. I sank down on my knees next to him, holding him, crying with him.

We sat there in the shower all night.

After, it took three days before he agreed to share a bed with me again. We both knew we couldn't stay apart, neither of us could get any sleep alone. I could tell he was terrified of hurting me again, but never has. Is that progress? I don't know what else to call it.

His body is slick from sweat, thrashing around between the tangled sheets. "Peeta! Peeta!" As he opens is eyes, for a split second I see the wild fear and aggression from that night not so long ago. But then he sees me, **really** sees me – and then closes his eyes, and clings to me, crushing me so hard to him it hurts. I have bruises all over my body from these nights, but I hold on to him.

I know he has bruises and scratches from holding me through my nightmares, too.

After a while, I manage to make him lie down on his back, stroking his hear, his bare chest, whispering comforting words into his ear. I lie down with my head on his chest, hearing his heart rate slow down gradually.

When his heart rate is finally nearly down to normal, after what seems like forever, he raises his hand to my face, gently lifting my chin up to meet his eyes.

"Thanks, Katniss", he whispers.

"You're welcome."

We don't talk the rest of the night. There's nothing to say. We don't sleep, either. We just cling to each other, trying to hang on. We're broken. And this is the only way to survive that we know of.


	2. Chapter 2

In the day, we try to stay busy. Together if we can, both of us recognizing the need to do so-called normal things together, not just help each other through the nights. To live instead of to exist.

I can see how the nature of our relationship might seem confusing. It's confusing to us, too. We are by now officially living together. There didn't seem any point in not living together. Are we a couple? No one has asked, and neither Peeta nor I dare to address the issue. We are a lot of things. Survivors. Victors. Victims. Friends? We don't know. Lovers? Certainly not, but still we cling to each other.

One sleepless night, the air in our bedroom hot and stuffy, smelling of fear and sweat from one of his aborted nightmares, he asks me: "Would you have been here with me if we'd never been reaped?"

He rarely talks after his nightmares, so I'm taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"If we'd never been reaped. If District 12 hadn't been destroyed. If everyone had been alive. Would you have been here with me? Tonight?"

I don't answer for a few seconds. The scenario he describes seems so improbable, considering everything we've been through. I don't even know if my brain can process it properly. It hurts too much.

I decide to be honest. "I don't know. I don't think so."

I've lied to him too many times, and I've always ended up hurting him, even when I've only lied trying to protect him. I can't lie about this, too.

I can feel how raggedly he inhales, deeply, at my honest words. I've hurt him. Again.

"So I have the Games to thank for you being here with me," he whispers. He's silent for so long I almost wonder if he's fallen asleep. "I bet it would annoy the hell out of Snow, though." He actually chuckles. I can feel the chuckle against my cheek more than I hear it.

"It's not because there's something wrong with you, Peeta, it's just that… You never spoke to me. How could I ever have known you were in love with me? Would you ever have dared speak to me?"

Silence.

"Would you have been with him?"

"With who?"

"You know who."

We both know who.

I consider the thought of me and Gale for a while. Thinking about him suggesting we run away away together. Thinking of him kissing me. "I don't know," I finally answer. "Perhaps. If I hadn't found a way to screw it up. I probably would've been too scared to marry him and have children with him… Too scared for them to be reaped. I'm not sure where that would've left us. As lovers? Him ending up hating me because I'd hurt him too much?"

Neither of us speaks for a few minutes. Considering a future that was taken from us, never to be, because paper slips with our names on them were picked from a bowl. The randomness of it. How the paper slips changed our lives, made our paths cross, bound us to each other forever.

"Would you change things? If you could?"

I try to search my muddy, tired brain for an answer. My fingers stroke the light blond hairs that have started growing on his chest, tracing a nipple. As I do, his arm tightens his grip around me reflexively. "Of course. If it could bring them all back. But nothing can. It happened. It's got nothing to do with you or with me. We're here now."

He kisses my hair slowly.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Thank you for the reviews! They make it so much easier and funnier to keep writing. :)_**

Mornings are slow and lazy, a contrast the the nights. Peeta usually wakes up first, making me breakfast. Today's pancakes, judging from the smell.

Peeta and I quickly left District 13. The way our lives were controlled there, every single aspect of it, was exactly the thing we had been trying to get away from when overthrowing President Snow. With the capitol not supplying us with money because we are victors anymore, we have to find a way to survive in a world that's turned upside down.

Life back home, which isn't home anymore yet still is, is very different. Harder, in that there are no meal times, no more or less full belly every day without making an effort, very few people to turn to. Free, in that we make our own decisions. We grow our own food in the garden, I hunt and trade with the others who have returned to District 12. Trade lines have also been established to the other districts, and we still get some supplies from District 13. They probably still feel like they owe us something. The sugar in the pancakes comes from District 13. Peeta got the flour for baking bread for one of the neighbors. The milk is from our goat, Flower. The bacon is from a wild boar I shot a few days ago.

"Good morning!" Peeta smiles to me, openly, without reservations, like a boy. Like the boy he still is. I wonder if he remembers last night, or if he just pretends not to.

I can't help but smile back. "Good morning." It feels like the kiss from last night still lingers on my hair. Without thinking, I lean up and kiss him on the cheek. He looks a bit surprised, but quickly gives me a hug in return. He smells of flour and sunshine and soap. I drink in his scent, feeling slightly dizzy for a second.

Peeta serves me pancakes, and we eat in silence for a while, both ravenously hungry. Not sleeping at night makes you hungry. I sometimes wonder how we can be as rested as we are, considering how little we sleep most nights.

"What do you want to do today?" Peeta asks.

"Hunting." I help myself to another pancake. Something suddenly occurs to me. "Do you want to come?"

"What, me?" Peeta laughs.

I suddenly remember how hunting with him was impossible in the arena, his heavy steps would scare away any game in a one mile radius, but I just want to spend some time with him, and we have plenty of food. "Yeah. We can try to find some berries, too."

"Sure." He looks happy. I'm sure I look happy, too. The anticipation of a day outside in the sunshine with Peeta makes me happy. We probably won't get much, between it being the middle of the day and Peeta coming along, but it doesn't matter. Gathering nuts, berries and edible plants is enough to call it a good working day. The sun draws me outside, eager to chase away the shadows for a little while.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A few short and fluffy chapters coming up before the angst returns. The rating will go up in the next few chapters, but perhaps not in the way you might think. **_

I realize I'm leading us in the direction of the lake. Peeta's probably never been there before. I've certainly never taken him, and he's hardly ever been in the woods without me. I hadn't planned to go there, or perhaps I had?

It doesn't matter. "Let's go to the lake," I say to Peeta.

"Lake?" He doesn't even know it's there. It reminds me of how limited his life was compared to mine, before the reaping.

I tell him how I used to go to the lake with my dad, that this was where he taught me to swim. "I guess we have a lot to thank that lake for, then," Peeta says, reminding me of just how important my swimming skills were at the start of the second games, giving me a head start, the bow, and a deal with Finnick.

When we finally see the lake, we're both warm and sweaty, carrying baskets of nuts, roots and some of the leftover pancakes from this morning for lunch. The sun is glittering on the surface of the lake, and the blue of the sky and the lake are both so intense it nearly hurts to look at them. I'm so happy that I, to Peeta's amusement, dance a little dance right there on the beach. It feels like being 9 years old again.

Without thinking, I quickly take off my sticky clothes. I hesitate an instant before stepping out of my underwear as well. I hear Peeta gasping beside me, but I don't look at him, I run towards the water, throw myself into the lake, going under, washing the sweat out of my growing hair. When I surface, I tread the water, looking towards the shore. Peeta's standing there, his faced flushed. I'm not sure if it's because of the heat.

"Jump in!"

He just shakes his head, sitting down on the beach with a somewhat awkward movement. "Uhm, no thanks, I'll just… Sit here for a while."

I find that a bit odd, until I notice the way that he tries not to stare at me, but at the same time he's unable to keep his eyes off me. I dive under again to hide my face, now blushing as well, from him.


	5. Chapter 5

He does join me in the water after a while. He takes off all his clothes, too, keeping his prosthetic leg on. I'm not quite sure if learning to swim with it or without it is better, but at least it makes getting into the water easier. This time I'm the one who has a hard time averting my gaze. It's strange, I think, that we share a bed every night, we've nearly died together, saved each other's lives, but we've never seen each other naked like this, outside in the sunlight.

I can't help admiring his body – tanned, strong, muscular again now that he's recovered from everything he suffered at the Capitol. His scars, partly faded due to some kind of advanced technology treatment my mother got her hands on in the hospital she's helped build in District Four - but somehow the faded scars just makes him more perfect. More Peeta. I realize that I stare at him, and I blush, but I can't help myself. Peeta avoids meeting my eyes, and quickly gets into the water as well, hiding his body from my view. He hasn't really learned to swim yet, but he's comfortable in the water, walking out until it reaches his neck. He just stands there, his arms floating on the surface of the water after ducking under to get his hair wet. He looks at me and grins. "So here we are on a beach again, huh?"

"Yeah." I'm not really sure if he refers to the Hunger Games beach or the one we went to before, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters except the blue water, the sun, and the scent of summer coming from the forest. I'm starting to feel lightheaded. I swim up to him. He's taller than me, so where he can stand, I can't. Treading the water and maintaining the same distance to him is difficult without kicking him, so I lay my arms around his neck, having him keep me up. His skin is cold and slick, and feels so different from when we're in bed at night. Everything feels different now, in the sunshine, without the nightmares.

"Katniss?"

"Yes?"

"I uhm…. Uhm…"

«You uhm? Is that the most coherent sentence you can do?» I laugh.

His arms are holding me tight. He's blushing again. "Uhm, Katniss… What exactly are you doing?"

"Swimming?" I pretend to be all innocent.

"No, you're… Uhm…"

"There you go all uhm-ing again." I can't help but tease him. I don't know if it's the lake, the sun, or the lack of sleep last night, but these moments that are just pure happiness are so far between these days, I just want to live in it. For as long as I can. There's no one watching, no one even knows we're here. We're free.

I feel something stirring, pressing into my thigh, and suddenly realize what all the uhm-ing was about. I guess I should've put two and two together earlier. I blink towards the sun, contemplating my next move. I scold myself for being naïve, thinking about how my actions – swimming naked, holding him – must appear. It's just that I rarely think about him – like that. There's just too much on my mind. On his mind, too, probably. We're just trying to hold on, to survive.

"Oh," is all I manage to say. My body goes all stiff, I don't know if it's fear, embarrassment or something else entirely. Of course I've felt him before, in the morning. But always clothed, and he's always been half asleep, in the dark. It was easy to slip away, pretend not to notice.

It is pretty hard not to notice now.

And I don't know if I want to slip away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers in my ear, but he holds me even tighter, perhaps unable to let me go. I cling to him myself, as if I'd drown if I let him go, even though that's of course not the case, I'm an excellent swimmer. But I can't let him go. I move ever so slightly against him. Peeta gasps.

"Katniss, I'm… We better stop this."

I know he's right, but I'm feeling lightheaded and irresponsible. "Why?"

"Because this is, uhm, going in a direction that I'm…. Not sure that…" I look him in the eyes, and I see a mixture of feelings – desire, fear, insecurity, longing.

Love.

And, just for an instant, flickering – shame?

I nod slowly. I release him, and he releases me. I throw myself back into the water, not daring to look at him, giving him some time to calm down. I don't want to embarrass him. Or myself.

Later, we are able to smile and laugh again. I teach him to swim, continuing the lesson from the Games, and he nearly makes it this time. A few more trips to the lake, and I'm sure he'll learn to swim for real. I tell him, and he smiles mischievously: "So, we're going to go here again?"

I don't know why his question makes me feel warm inside, but it does. I smile, and I know my smile is real, happy, for him only. "Yes."

"I'd like that." He kisses my nose, then my lips. I kiss him back, and the kiss drives everything else from my mind.


	6. Chapter 6

_**The rating has gone up to M now, for mature and very dark content.**_

That night, something feels different from before. We both lie awake, unable to sleep, my head on his chest as usual. He strokes my hair. His skin smells of sunshine. I wonder if he's thinking about our day at the lake, too, but I don't know how to ask. Anger suddenly overcomes me – anger at the Capitol. For making me feel like I'm 100 years old sometimes – I've seen too much, killed too many, my life has been shattered too many times. I've been too hungry, for too long. And still, at times like these, I feel like the teenager I am, or was never allowed to be. What am I? The hunger and struggle for survival took away so many of my teenage years. The Games took away even more. And finally, the Hijacking stole whatever was left. Peeta and I are both in the same void, somewhere between teenager and too old, between normal and broken.

Finally, he's the first to speak. "I'm sorry about today."

I don't know what I'd expected him to say, but it certainly wasn't that. It hurts, and I don't know why. I lift up my head from his chest to meet his eyes. "Don't be sorry," I whisper. Then, like an afterthought, "What are you sorry about?"

He hesitates, his eyes avoiding mine. "For the way my body… reacted."

I can't help but chuckle. "It's not the first time I've… felt you like that," I tell him. I lay down my head on his chest again, I don't look at him, because it would make him even more uncomfortable. I can tell by the way his body tenses that he's embarrassed. Mortified.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "It's just… You… It was too much."

That somehow feels like the greatest compliment I've ever received. "Nothing to be embarrassed about, Peeta," I whisper. "It's just a… natural reaction of your body." This, at least, I've gathered from living for 18 years, even though most of my years have been centered on survival and little else.

Peeta holds me tighter, and I can tell he's still upset. Tears are silently running down his cheeks, wetting my hair. I don't try to dry them, I've realized that tears are a vital key to his recovery. And mine. I just hold on to him, without saying anything, waiting for him to continue if he can. I've learned not to push him at times like these. After a long while, he finally whispers, nearly inaudible: "They did that to me. In the Capitol."

At first I don't understand. "Did? What do you mean?"

"They… made me react... like that. Thinking you were… there. With the venom. The hallucinations and…" His breath is ragged, but still he holds me tight, his nails nearly breaking the skin of my upper arm and back. I'll have more bruises tomorrow. I'm too terrified to say anything. "They did it to… Twist me. My memories of you. Until I didn't know what was real and what was not."

I've been exposed to the venom, too. I know what it did to my mind. And just to think of being exposed to it for so long, in the hands of people who would know how to manipulate him with the venom, use it to crush him… It's nearly unthinkable.

"I'd think you were there, and… they'd twist… everything… I'd dream that you were…" He can barely get the words out now. "That you were… that **we** were… Together. And was loving it, it was everything I'd dreamed of for so long, and then you'd… change. You'd change into a mutt. A monster. You would…"He's crying in earnest now, heavy sobs making it hard to make out what he's saying. "You'd be raping me," he finally manages to choke out. "I was unable to get away, but still my body would react to you, unable to stop, and…" His voice trails off.

I'm crying, too. "The nightmares?" I ask him, sitting up, with his head in my lap, stroking his hair. My tears fall on his cheeks, mingling with his.

"Yes. I'll be…" He shakes his head, as if to clear his mind. "I don't know what's real and what's not. Have we ever…?"

I shake my head.

"Oh." He sounds relieved. Almost surprised. I wonder how much of what they did to him was real, physical, just not by me, and how much was projected in his mind, but it's too painful to consider. The damage is done. The anger that they'd do this to him, to us, to **this**, is burning. They've destroyed us, without even giving us a decent shot at having a happy, normal life together.

"It's not real, Peeta. The things that… I'd never do that to you. Take advantage of you… I'd…" My voice trails off.

"Did you ever… With Gale?" His words are nearly inaudible.

I didn't see this question coming. How could he think that? "No." He seems relieved when I answer, but I don't know if his question was a result of things they've projected in his mind during the hijacking, or if the question has been there much longer than that.

"I used to dream about… being with you. I've done it for years. Since long before the reaping. And then… They took my dreams and… twisted them." The full extent of the damage they've done to Peeta is starting to sink in. "Do you think we'll ever get past it?"

"I don't know." I can't lie to him. I bend down and kiss his hair. "Thanks for dreaming about me. Before."

He actually smiles at me then, the smile quickly gone, but it was definitely there. " You're… welcome. You've figured heavily in my dreams since I was 12," he whispers.

"Too much information," I whisper back, with a smile this time. Our relationship is so out of balance. It's so heavily influenced by what we've been through, what has been done to us - to him, but also to me. They've broken us. I don't know if the pieces can be put back together. We're together in spite of what we've been through, but also because of it. I don't know what we are. I just know that I need to hold on to him.

I lie down next to him again, my nose touching his, my hands on either side of his head holding him steady, nearly kissing, but not quite. "I'd never hurt you, Peeta. Never. Now go to sleep."

I continue stroking his hear until he does.

He doesn't have any nightmares. This night belongs to me. The nightmare is a new one. I'm hurting Peeta, twisting his love into something terrible and cruel.

I wake screaming.


	7. Chapter 7

_**So the rating went up to M when I posted chapter six, and I couldn't help but notice that the number of readers of chapter six were actually higher than the number of chapter five. ;) Anyway, hang on, who knows what will happen in the future, right? ;) The keywords to my story are romance/angst, and yes, you'll have both. There's just quite a lot of angst right now. Both Katniss and Peeta are pretty badly damaged, after all.**_

_**Another thing, reviews really **__**do**__** make me write faster. So if you want to read more, please review! I'd love to hear what you think about my story!**_

Sure enough, I wake up to new bruises from the night before.

Peeta is still asleep, he finally managed to nod off again after being awake with me nearly all night. I look at the bruises in the bathroom mirror. Dark blue, nearly black. Five on my back, five on my left upper arm. One of his nails broke my skin, there is dried blood on my back, as there was on the sheets, too. I sigh, wondering if I'll manage to keep the bruises hidden from him, because I know he'll feel terrible about doing this to me, even though it's not his fault.

But I know I can't.

The bathroom door is open, in the mirror I can see the reflection of him, sleeping. He looks so young when he's asleep, without nightmares, all the pain is gone. My eyes fill with tears when I remember how I swore to protect him during the Quarter Quell, but failed to. What they did to him, they did because **I** didn't protect him.

I have dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, my skin is pale.

I close the bathroom door and turn on the warm water in the shower. This house is one of the very few houses in District 12 that has running water, not to mention warm water. There are, after all, some benefits to living in a Victor house. I scrub my body, hard, perhaps trying to clean off the things Peeta told me last night. If I cry, the tears are lost in the water.

Scrubbing doesn't help. I come out of the shower, not feeling any cleaner than I did before. Peeta's woken up, and he's in the bathroom, looking at me as I step out of the shower. I'm startled at first, and keep myself from reaching out for the towel to cover myself. He studies me intently. My hair is wet, dripping water on the floor, my skin covered in droplets of water. I feel like an insect under a magnifying glass. He reaches out a hand, touches my arm carefully.

The bruises. I knew he wouldn't miss them. I have other bruises too, from other nights, but he must keep track of them. He knows these are new. "Did I make these? Last night?"

I nod.

"Turn around."

I obey, showing him my back. He exhales slowly. When I turn around to face him, his eyes are filled with tears. "I'm sorry, Katniss," he whispers. "I never meant to hurt you, I'd…"

"It's okay. They'll heal in no time. It doesn't hurt." Okay, so that was a lie, but at least it doesn't hurt that much anymore. My arm will probably be too painful to do much hunting for a few days, but other than that I'll be fine.

I've nearly forgotten that I'm standing there naked, dripping wet, and all he's wearing are his boxers. I grab a towel and wrap it around my body. Peeta takes another, smaller towel. "Let me dry your hair," he says, and I let him. It feels good.

I lie down on the bed, fully dressed now, waiting for him to get out of the shower. The water in the shower is all I can hear. I look up at the ceiling, wondering just what I've gotten myself into. A part of me wishes that I hadn't known about it at all, the things he told me last night, but at the same time I instinctively feel that me knowing about this is vital. If I only knew what to do? I'm too inexperienced myself. Too hurt, too damaged. How do I fix him? I guess a part of me has known for a long time that we are heading in a direction that could, would, one day end up in a mature relationship. If not as husband and wife, then at least as… life partners. And that there were levels of intimacy that are natural in an adult relationship that we hadn't reached yet, but that we had been climbing up that ladder - partly forced during the first Hunger Games, then, later, hesitantly, on our own accord. But now?

I wish there was someone I could talk to, someone who could tell me what to do. I suddenly wish my mother were here, but I blush just thinking about talking to her about this. Is there anyone else? I can't think of anyone but Haymitch. Perhaps he will know? He's been in the games himself, the Capitol must have hurt him, too. Perhaps they even sold him, like Finnick? I've seen videos from the Games Haymitch was in. He was dark, muscular, handsome.

I shiver. Bastards.


	8. Chapter 8

I take my bow, telling Peeta that I'm going hunting as usual, but instead of going through the fence to the woods, I'm going to visit Haymitch. I'm coming up behind his house so Peeta won't see me just crossing the street to Haymitch's house. If Peeta sees me visit him, he'll ask questions, and I don't want that. Not this time.

I wonder in which state I'll find Haymitch. It's kind of hard to know these days, with the alcohol supply being so unreliable. I knock on his back door, and walk in. I find Haymitch by the kitchen table, and clearly he's just gotten a new delivery from the last train that came here with supplies.

"Katnissssss! The girl on fire!" He is all smiles, offering me a drink, which I decline. I'm not using chemical substances to numb the pain, not anymore. I've learned my lesson. "So what's up?"

"Nothing," I shrug. "Do I need a reason to come visit you? You're my mentor. Just stopping by to be nice."

His eyes narrow. "You want something."

I roll my eyes. He knows me too well. Besides, we are too much alike. There's no fooling him.

"So what is it? Goat's ill? Want a few bottles of gin? Are there problems in paradise for the star-crossed lovers of District 12? Do you need contraceptives?" He guffaws when he sees me going deep red from embarrassment.

"NO!" I hiss.

I sit down by his kitchen table, accepting his offer of a glass of water. I bury my face in my hands. Haymitch pours himself another drink. Not water, obviously. I don't know where to begin, or how. Haymitch must have sensed that something is wrong, even in his early morning drunken state. When I finally look up, his eyes are calm and serious, not mocking me anymore. The smile is gone from his lips.

"What's wrong, Katniss?" The question is sincere this time.

I lick my lips. "I… uhm, this isn't easy to… talk about," I begin, hesitantly. "But I don't know who else to turn to. There's no one I can… talk to about it."

"So you can't talk to Peeta?"

I shake my head. No. Definitely not Peeta.

"So… Peeta is the problem?"

"Yes." I take another sip of water from my glass, trying to win myself some time. How do I balance between telling Haymitch enough to actually give me useful advice, and betraying Peeta's trust? "It's… about the hijacking."

"Oh. He's still having nightmares, isn't he? That's to be expected. Perhaps for the rest of his life."

That's not reassuring at all, thank you very much. "Yes, he's still having nightmares. He hasn't told me about them, though… Not until last night. But yesterday he told me that… They were about me. About us, having…" I can't finish my sentence, but my blushing and avoiding to meet his eyes clearly tell Haymitch what my mouth just can't say.

"Ouch."

"Uhm… yeah. That about sums it up."

He lifts an eyebrow. "And how does that make you feel?"

I can't find an answer, so I don't say anything. I just look down at the glass in my hands.

After a long while, he says: "Did they implant those memories in him when he was hijacked?" As usual, Haymitch cuts straight to the core.

I nod. "Yeah. And the venom…"

"Have you ever done the dirty deed?" I blush again, shaking my head vigorously. I look down at the table, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't. When I finally find the courage to look up and meet his eyes, I'm surprised to see that his eyes are brimming with tears. "I'm sorry they managed to destroy this for you, too, Katniss," he says, taking my hand from across the table.

Yeah, he really does cut to the core. I'm relieved that at least he understands.

I have to ask him. "When you… When you were victor. Did they… Sell you? Like Finnick?"

He releases my hand, pouring himself another drink. A large one. He gulps down some more alcohol, before he leans back, looking me in the eye. "Yes." His voice is steady, not betraying any emotions. "I was 16 the first time. Just a few weeks after I won."

I'm feeling sick.

"It wasn't too bad in the beginning – at least I didn't think so at the time. I didn't fully understand what I'd gotten myself into until later. I was 16, I just thought it was great to, you know, have sex with **anyone**. This was 25 years ago, I think things changed later, and not for the better. From what I've understood from Finnick, they were a lot more direct about it with him. I wasn't sold as openly, at least not in the beginning. 35-year-old women with surgically altered perfect bodies who wanted to have sex with me seemed like a brilliant idea. I was living a life of parties and glamour in the Capitol. Everyone loved me. I was the pet of Panem. It took me some time to realize that I didn't really have a choice, though. That there was money involved. And that someone would get hurt if I didn't do it."

"What happened?"

"I fell in love. Not with one of… them."

"And?"

"They killed her." His glass is already empty. "She was 17." He fills it up. "They even made me identify the body, just to make sure I'd gotten the point." I feel sick.

"That's when I started drinking." I can kind of understand that. "It helped numbing me. After a while, it helped making me less desirable. Fewer women would be interested in paying for my… services. Win-win. In the end the offers, or should I say demands, stopped coming."

So that's the reason he's never had started a family. Living alone with all his bottles. I hate myself for all the times I've laughed at or ridiculed his drinking, for thinking he's weak.

"So, there you go. Did that little bedtime story make you feel better?"

I shake my head.

"Yup, thought so. So how do you think that story is going to help you out in your current situation with Peeta?"

Good question. I had already suspected what he's just told me, and that's one of the reasons why I came to him in the first place. But why?

"Listen, Katniss, our situations are different. I was being sold, but at least I was more or less sober, at least in the beginning, and I was as free as, well, a victor can be under the circumstances. They didn't **try** to break me. With Peeta, they've been messing with his head. Bad. They did it specifically to hurt him. To hurt you both. I can't tell you what to do, because obviously I didn't manage to fix myself. I mean, look at me!"

I look at him from across the table. Half dressed, unshaved, his hair too long, five empty bottles on the table, his glass full, at nine in the morning. No. He hadn't.

"I think Peeta's going to be your best guide here, Katniss. Try to **talk** to him, do this on his own terms. And yours. Are **you** sure?" He looks at me intently. His scrutinizing eyes make me divert my own, back to the table.

After a long pause, I whisper: "Yes".

He chuckles. I'm mortified. "Oh my, the many tasks of a mentor! I didn't know giving sex advice to teenagers would be one of them!" I just want to sink down through the floor. I'm starting to regret going here in the first place.

"Look, I have something for you. Your mother gave it to me before she left for District Four." He rummages through some drawers in the kitchen, until he finally finds what he's looking for. A small box. Before I really understand what he's doing, he's given me a shot in my upper arm. It hurts.

"Ow! Haymitch, what are you doing? What was that?"

"Contraceptive shot. Lasts a year."

Now I'm **really** regretting going here. My **mother** gave him that? The implications are making my head spin. If she gave Haymitch that shot, to give to me, then she must've thought that… The very idea of my mother planning me sleeping with Peeta makes me want to hit the bottle myself.

"Your mother's not stupid, you know," he laughs. "She's been young and in love herself. She gave it to me just in case. Bringing a baby into the equation is a pretty bad idea, all things considered, the way things are now – agreed?"

I nod, still flushing. I just want to die.

Haymitch turns serious. "What if he never comes around?" I don't know what to answer. "Do you stay?"

I nod slowly. I can't leave Peeta. Not again.

"There is a chance Peeta is damaged beyond repair. You may never be able to… be together. Really be together." His words are such a contrast with his recent action, giving me a contraceptive shot, that it makes me feel sick.

"I know," I whisper.

"Give him time. Be there for him. You're the best therapy he can have. He loves you. He's always loved you. Perhaps it would've been easier if he hadn't, but there you go. Do you love him, Katniss?"

"Yes." Finally, there's no reason to hesitate when being asked that question.

He nods approvingly. "I knew you did when I saw your reaction when Peeta was brought back to life by Finnick." Well, he and the rest of Panem, including President Snow, knew that. "This is a heavy burden to place on the shoulders of an 18-year-old girl with, as I understand it, very limited experience." I fight the urge to throw one of his empty bottles at him. "Unfortunately, you've had way too much experience in other arenas of life."

I fight the tears now. To my surprise, he actually gets up, walks over to me and gives me a hug. Now that's something I never expected from Haymitch. "Good luck."

He walks over to the kitchen counter, opening another bottle. "All this exciting sex talk is making me thirsty," he laughs, and he's back to being his old, annoying self. "Will you do me a favour and film it when you make him screw you?"

I throw the bottle after him. He laughs when he ducks, and the bottle smashes into the wall, shattering into a thousand pieces. I missed him on purpose – I'm a hunter, after all, if I'd really wanted to hit him, I wouldn't have missed my target.

He's still laughing when I leave, blushing deeply, through the back door.


	9. Chapter 9

When I come home, pretending that I've been hunting but without having anything to show for it, he doesn't buy it.

"How was your trip?"

"Didn't shoot a thing, it was one of those days, you know… I nearly got a turkey, but I stepped on a twig, it broke, and the turkey took off." It sounds almost believable, and I'm a bit proud, as I'm a horrible liar.

Peeta hands me some fresh bread. It smells wonderful.

He sighs. "Katniss, I know you went to talk to Haymitch. I saw you through the window when I went to get some carrots from the garden. And then you left your bow behind his house, so I know you didn't go hunting afterwards. Besides, you always talk too much when you're lying."

Crap.

"I just wanted to check up on him, you know… With the drinking and all."

"Is that why you threw a bottle at him?"

Crap!

"Uhm…" I wish I were better with words. I can't think of a single thing I could say that would sound credible. Words are Peeta's domain, not mine. Shooting and anger are what I excel at.

"So now you're the one who's uhm-ing." He gives me a half smile. "Did you go there to talk to him about me?"

Okay, so I can't lie to him. I should've known better. "Yes," I mutter. I can't meet his eyes.

"Why?" His voice is thick, like he's trying not to cry.

"I'm… sorry." I seem to be apologizing to him all the time lately.

"Did you consider that perhaps… this… what I told you… isn't something that I'd want the whole world to know about?"

"Not the whole world. Just Haymitch."

"I told **you**, not anyone else. Do you know what it feels like to…"

"Do you know what it feels like to **me**?" I shout back, crying now. "I don't know what to do! I don't know how to heal you, I don't even know how to heal me! I don't know how to be patient and cool and understanding. All I know is that when you touch me, I'm on fire, and I don't even know if I can show you that fire, terrified that it would set you off! I've never been this close to another human being in my life, and it scares the hell out of me! And if anyone would understand what I am going through, what **we** are going through, it would be Haymitch! He was sold too, you know."

"You mean…?"

"Yeah. Like Finnick."

I rarely hear Peeta swear, but the words that come out of his mouth now would definitely have earned him some bruises if his mother had been here to hear it.

Then silence. He's breathing heavily. Finally he says: "Okay, so what did the doc prescribe?"

"Huh?"

"The wannabe shrink. Haymitch. He knows everything, doesn't he? What did he say?"

"To give you time. And to talk to you."

"Told you, he's quite the rocket scientist." Peeta's voice is dripping with sarcasm.

I walk over to him. He has some flour smeared on his forehead. I gently wipe it off. "Hey, Peeta…" I hug him, holding him tight. To my relief, he hugs me back, holding me, kissing my neck, burying his nose in my hair. I can tell he's drinking in my scent, as I drink in his. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I didn't mean to betray your trust, but I'm in over my head here. I'm not… I've never done this. I don't know how to… move forward. If you even want to move forward."

"I do," he whispers into my hair. "But I… I'm confused. One part of me wants to run screaming when the flashbacks come, when you touch me, and I don't know if it's real or not real. And another part just wants to…" He trails off.

"Yes?"

"Fuck you senseless," he says with a grin. Now here's where the horny teenager comes out instead of the broken man.

I blush at his honesty, both delighted and terrified. "You're ahead of me in this game," I say slowly. "I mean, you've been dreaming about me… about this… since I was 12?" He nods. "But I haven't. I never let myself… I never thought it would be an option. With anyone."

"I know." He kisses my forehead gently.

I feel lighter somehow. Talking like this, openly for the first time, has cleared the air at least somewhat. I realize that Haymitch was right about the talking part, at least. I guess he's right about the time part as well, but we probably **both** need time.

"So then we agree? Talk and time?"

"Talk and time," I agree. Then I chuckle. "Who knows if it's a good idea to follow Haymitch's advice on love…"

He trails a finger underneath my chin, towards my ear, tracing it, making me shiver. "You know, you don't use the word "love" very often," he whispers. "I'm usually the one who says it."

"Yeah," I breathe back. "But you know… Real."

He smiles.

_**So what do you think? Too fast, too slow? I guess some of you expected something else to happen in chapter six, but we're getting there. :) All in good time!**_


	10. Chapter 10

It's a hot summer evening, the breeze making the white curtains in our bedroom window dance. I've gone to bed, trying to read a book, but I can't concentrate. Peeta went to visit some of the others who have returned to District 12, among them a boy who used to be in his class. Or a man who used to be in his class, I guess. It seems so long ago. When did I go to school? It must've been a lifetime ago. He's not back yet. I wonder when he'll be back? I'm not sure when I should start worrying.

I also wonder what they're talking about. Work? The past? People who have died? The future? The weather?

Me?

Us?

I blush just thinking about it. I don't really think that Peeta would talk about me, at least not say things I wouldn't want him to say to anyone else, but I'm not sure. This is one of his best friends, after all. The only one who still lives, the only one he has. Except me. I'm glad for him, that he has someone to talk to. But I'm not used to it, I'm used to being the only one. Because he is the only one I have.

Then I hear his steps outside, unlocking the door, taking off his shoes. I close my eyes and let out a sigh of relief, glad he's home. He walks up the stairs, opening the door to our bedroom. "Hi!" He smiles, he looks happy. At the sight of me his smile broadens, and I blush as his eyes scan my body. It's so hot, all I'm wearing is a tank top and my panties. I guess he's not used to all this skin. Neither am I. He walks over to me, kisses me on the lips lightly. "Nice outfit," he whispers in my ear. Then he smiles and walks into the bathroom, brushing his teeth.

When he comes back, all he's wearing are his boxer shorts. This time I'm the one who's catching my breath. I don't know if it's the heat, his careless smile, or simply the fact that we've both had a good day. He lies down next to me. "How's the book?"

I don't even remember what it's about, but I can't tell him that. "Okay." I put it down. "How was your visit at Dave's?"

"Good." He pauses. "It was good to see him. It's been a long time. But it's also hard to… Remember everyone who's not here anymore.

I nod slowly. Dave lost the majority of his family when District 12 was bombed. His younger sister is the only one who's still alive.

"I haven't really talked to him since before the reaping. Seems like a lifetime ago," he says, mirroring my earlier thoughts. "He says hi, by the way. He couldn't get over the fact that we are now living together."

I chuckle. "I can imagine. I'm guessing you've told him a thing or two about me – I mean, before?"

He grins. "Oh yeah. He was secretly in love with Madge, so we were both obsessing about someone completely out of our league." His smile dies, as does mine. Madge.

I wish she could be here. There are so many that are gone. We've lost so many.

I turn off the light. He lies behind me, spooning, even though it's hot. Breathing in my neck. One hand goes over my waist, the other underneath my head. My tank top has slipped up a bit, and his hand is touching the naked skin of my belly.

"You do know it's too hot to be sleeping this close together, right?" I whisper. His body behind me is so hot it's a wonder I'm not getting burns.

"I know," he whispers back, but he doesn't move away. Neither do I.

I try to sleep, I really do. I close my eyes, deliberately slow my breathing, listen to the wind, but all I can think about, is that hand on my belly and the heat of his body against my back. I can tell he's not sleeping, either, his hand keeps stroking my belly, partly scarred, partly smooth.

I am never going to get any sleep at this rate. **Never**.

Finally, I turn around, lying on my back, looking at him, his hand still on my naked belly. I smile. He smiles back. Then, quickly, without daring to talk or even think too much about it, I slip off my tank top. I can hear him gasping, and his face… He just looks stunned. I study his face carefully, but don't see any fear, just… Awe. As if involuntarily, his hand goes up, from my belly to my right breast. He touches it, ever so lightly, as if he can hardly believe it's true.

Perhaps he doesn't.

I don't dare to move, not to mention talk. All I can hear is his ragged breathing, mirrored by my own. "Is it… okay that I touch you?" he finally says, his voice hoarse.

I nearly chuckle, after all he's been feeling up my breast for quite a while, and he's only now asking for permission? But I hold it back, this is no time for laughter. "Yeah," I whisper.

Slowly, Katniss, slowly.

We just lie there, I don't know for how long, perhaps for hours. In the warm summer night, he touches every inch of my upper body, getting to know all my scars intimately, every patch of skin, every fold and imperfection. His hands are warm and loving. "You're so beautiful, Katniss," he whispers.

"You too," I whisper back.

Finally we both fall asleep.

_**It would appear as if things are finally starting to heat up? I have more chapters lined up, the next few ones will be a bit shorter. But the more you review, the faster I'll post them. Maybe. ;)**_


	11. Chapter 11

I wake up first. Slowly. At first I don't understand what's different, I just know that something is. I open my eyes, and realize that I'm half naked. So that's different.

Then I realize that neither Peeta nor I had any nightmares last night. That's different, too.

He's still holding me tight, one hand cupping one of my breasts even in my sleep. He does seem to have quite a thing for breasts, so I probably shouldn't be surprised. I just lie there for a while, looking at him sleep, but finally my bladder insists I need to get up. I carefully get out of bed, hoping I won't wake him.

When I return a few minutes later, he's awake, looking at me like I'm his breakfast. I blush, I'm still not used to not having anything to cover my upper body, but I force myself to walk casually towards the bed as if nothing's happened. I slip underneath the bed sheet and lie down next to him again. It's definitely confirmed, Peeta's a breast guy. He can hardly keep his eyes off them.

"I didn't know they were **that** spectacular," I grin, with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, they are," he says, and it sounds like he really means it. A stolen glance tells me that yeah - he does. He notices my glance, though, and blushes.

"No reason to blush, Peeta," I say, but don't reach out to touch him. Last night I might have, but everything seems much more… definite now. In the sunshine, in the morning. Plus, slow seems to have worked just fine so far. I don't even remember the last time neither of us had any nightmares.

"You certainly are the girl on fire," he whispers, then kisses me.

_**Just a short chapter tonight! :) Thanks for reviewing, liking and following my story - and most of all, thanks for reading! It's very motivating to check the traffic stats. :) **_


	12. Chapter 12

From that night on, I make it a point to sleep only in my panties. Peeta seems to like it. I certainly like it. Win-win.

This does not, however, keep the nightmares away for long. The following night, they are back. And then the next night. And the one after that. They are mine as much as his, but they keep us both awake at night.

Then, one night, he slips off my panties, and then his own boxer shorts. Now there is nothing between us. No fabric to separate us. I can hardly breathe. I look at him, at all of him, and I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful in my life.

When my eyes return to his face, I realize that he's crying. "What is it, Peeta?" I ask, holding him, rocking him. Was it too much, too soon?

Finally his sobs subside. "This just feels so… right," he says. We don't do anything more, we just… Adjust to being completely naked together. No boundaries. Just us. Not star-crossed lovers from District 12, just Peeta and Katniss.

_**A short but (hopefully) sweet chapter, they'll be longer (and deserving the rating) soon. :)**_


	13. Chapter 13

The second time we go to the lake, it's different from before. When we arrive at the lake, tearing off our clothes and jumping into the lake is the first thing we do. There is no hesitation or embarrassment this time, by now being naked together feels just… natural.

Like breathing.

He manages to swim a few meters this time, and he looks so proud of himself that I break into a huge grin. "Well done, Peeta!"

"Don't I deserve a kiss now that I've been such a good boy?" he pouts, and he gets one. He holds me tight, crushing my body towards his, and my thigh feels the repeat of the last time we were at this exact same place, doing the exact same thing we're doing now. I don't feel as embarrassed this time, and Peeta doesn't immediately release me. I look up into his blue eyes. "Do you feel sorry for me?" He asks.

"What?" His question catches me off guard.

"Do you feel sorry for me? Is that the reason why you've never… Touched me?"

"I just figured we should… take it slow," I whisper. "And I didn't know how far you'd dare to go. How far **I'd **dare to go…"

"Take it slow and talk, huh?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"Okay, so… We've taken it slow. And now we're talking. So I'm asking you if you'd like to… touch me?"

If he hadn't held me so tight, I think I might've fallen. I feel dizzy. I hold my breath as my hand moves downwards, he releases me slightly so I can slip a hand between us. I'm not prepared for what's waiting for me – I've felt him before, but not like this. I'm not prepared for the hardness and the silk both together, the heat, yet the water is cold. I touch him curiously, exploring him, marveling at the feel of him in my hands. He gasps, and leans his head back, exposing his throat. I take it as a sign of approval, but suddenly his head snaps back, his pupils are huge, making his eyes look nearly black. He grabs hold of my shoulders and pushes me away, holding me there. He breathes heavily. I can't read the expression in his face, is it passion or fear? Or both?

"Peeta?" I whisper, trying to keep the tears away.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," he croaks, "It's just… Flashback." He can hardly get the word out.

It probably would've felt less terrible if he'd slapped me. I can't help it, tears are running down my cheeks now.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Katniss, I'm sorry," is all he manages to say. He's crying, too. We're crying together, in the sunshine, the cool water a divide between our bodies.

Later, we lie on the beach, still naked, the sun drying our skin before we put our clothes back on. Peeta is lying with his eyes closed, I'm not even sure if he's awake. Everything is so different here, outside in the sun. I suddenly feel exposed in a way I didn't before, in the privacy of our bedroom at dusk. I'm sitting next to him, my head resting on my knees, looking out over the lake. Peeta is stirring next to me, he must be awake after all. He sits up like me, our thighs and shoulders just barely touching. I rest my head on his shoulder, and we just sit there, together.

_****Are you getting as impatient as me? ;) Are they taking it too slow? There is more to come soon!** **_


	14. Chapter 14

More days pass. We sleep naked together on hot summer nights. We touch, kiss, talk, cry, laugh, comfort, explore.

Just us.

Haymitch comes for dinner. Peeta invited him. I'm dreading it, afraid Haymitch will pull sex jokes on our behalf, but he doesn't. We're sitting outside in the garden, and even though he's drunk as usual, he's not overly so. He tells us some very entertaining stories from the capitol, including a hilarious parody of Snow. It's getting dark, and there is a chill in the air, reminding us that fall isn't very far away. Where has this summer gone? I wonder. When I think back, my memories from this summer are centered on the smell of sun on Peeta's skin, and the feel of his hands on my body.

"Katniss?"

I come back to reality. "What?"

"I asked you about your hunting. Twice." Haymitch's eyes are looking teasingly at me. He knows. How can he look right through me? "What were you thinking about, sweetheart?"

I don't want to give him the satisfaction of blushing, but I know I'm not succeeding. I try to think of a good reply, but nothing comes to mind. Damn him.

"You know, when I was a kid, my parents had a cat." I'm surprised Haymitch has changed the subject, saving me from further embarrassment. "I never liked her much, but my mother adored her. She had a litter of kittens, every summer. And every year, in March, she'd get that look on her face that you have now. The only difference is that you're not crawling around on the floor howling for it, at least not yet."

This time I wouldn't have missed, if it hadn't been for Peeta, who blocked my throwing arm. Comparing me to a cat in heat is just too much, even for Haymitch. "Put down the bottle, Katniss," Peeta demands, and sheepily I give it to him.

I get ready to yell at Haymitch, but I'm cut short. "I'm sorry. I'm an ass. I didn't mean to hurt you." Haymitch looks sincere now. Sad? "I worry about you, that's all, and I don't know how to help you, and when I'm insecure, I say… Stupid things. I'm supposed to be looking out for you, and I hardly ever even **see** you. I know you're going through all kinds of crap, and I feel so helpless. And because the subject at hand is, uhm, pretty sensitive, there's only so much I do to help. I don't want you to turn into... me. I don't want to intrude on your privacy, and I'm afraid I'm leaving you alone too much, too. "

"We're doing okay," Peeta answers after a long pause. He's clearly uncomfortable talking about this. "I appreciate your effort, though."

"Are you still angry about that shot I gave you, Katniss?" Haymitch asks me, and I shake my head.

"What shot?" Peeta asks. I have, quite conveniently, forgotten to tell him.

"I gave her a contraceptive shot," Haymitch says, his eyes narrowing when he looks at me. "Her mother gave it to me."

"Her **mother**?" Peeta asks, clearly connecting the dots, blushing deeply. He looks even more mortified than I felt when Haymitch told me about it the first time.

"Yeah. She had two kids, she knows where they come from, and how they're made. And I'm sorry for embarrassing you again, Katniss, but I thought you'd Peeta. Are you talking? I mean, **really** talking?"

Peeta and I look at each other. "Yeah."

"Good. And obviously you're taking your time. So all is good. Are you making any progress?"

This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had in my life. I can't believe we're sitting here, talking about our sex life, or what passes for it anyway, with Haymitch. HAYMITCH!

"Who's to say we're not going at it all night like, well, cats in heat?" I ask sarcastically.

"Sweetheart, I'd know it instantly if you were. I can tell from a hundred yards you're not doing it, plus I live just across the street, and you'd keep me up half the night if you were if I'm right about the two of you." I blink my eyes at his astonishing mix of compassion and extreme rudeness.

For once, even Peeta is speechless. Haymitch looks at the two of us, gets up, putting his glass down. "Thanks for dinner, it was delicious. I'm sorry if I've hurt you, I never intended to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted you to know that I care."

When he's left, we just sit there in silence for a while, stunned. "That's a very strange way of showing that he cares," Peeta finally says.

"Yeah. But he's Haymitch, after all."

"Why didn't you tell me about the contraceptive shot?"

"I just…" I don't know what to say. I don't even know what the truth is, let alone if I'd tell it to him if I knew what it was.

When I don't complete my sentence, he continues: "Did it feel like… too much pressure?"

I shrug. "I'm not even sure. Perhaps. I didn't want to pressure you. Or perhaps I was afraid of you putting pressure on me. It just felt so… Definitive. That we had to… Others thought that we were… That we were somehow **supposed** to…" I can't find the words.

"Nothing has to happen," he says quietly. He's observing me closely, trying to judge how I feel.

I look at him helplessly. "I **know** that nothing has to happen! But I want it to! And I'm scared because I want it!" I burst into tears, feeling so embarrassed that I cry about this, now. I'm already feeling mortified for what I just said.

Peeta touches my shoulder, puts a finger underneath my chin, lifting my head to look at him. His blue eyes meet mine. "I'm scared too, Katniss," he says softly. "I'm scared every day and every night. But nothing scares me more than the thought of not having you by my side every night." Peeta always knows exactly what to say to make it right. No wonder he was a talk show hit.

"Do you know what else scares me?"

I don't really want to nod, but I do.

"It's knowing that if we hadn't been reaped, we wouldn't have been together. Being reaped was the worst thing that ever happened to me, it destroyed my life, and yet… We can thank the Hunger Games for being together. I have President Snow to thank for you sleeping naked next to me every night."

I laugh through my tears, and lift up my glass of wine. "To President Snow."

"To President Snow." I take a ship of wine, then laugh harder. "Can you imagine who pissed he'd be, if he'd been here now?"

_**They're just about done with the talking and the taking it slow by now. ;) Things are starting to heat up!**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Now that this little story is close to an end, I think it's about time to say that I've **__**tried **__**to keep the storyline and the characters pretty true to the books, but there are still some AU aspects to this story. Partly because it suited my story better, and in a few cases because I hadn't finished Mockingjay by the time I started writing this story (I just read the very last pages and browsed through the rest, yes, I'm very bad). In particular, and of great relevance to my storyline, the hijacking of Peeta targeting the sexual aspects of his relationship to Katniss is my invention. I think it could be something the Capitol might/would actually do, but it was perhaps too much for a book primarily aimed at teenagers. Haymitch being sold after he became a victor is also AU. And as you're about to find out, I'm not really true to the words of the very last page in the book (pre-epilogue). There is nothing "sudden" about how Katniss and Peeta finally find together in my story – after all, we're already at chapter 15. ;) I've done my best to make it a gradual process, with plenty of setbacks and angst on the way, as I think that's the most realistic way it would happen for these two – both in my slightly AU and in the books. I was disappointed that Suzanne Collins would spend so little time on writing how Peeta and Katniss finally find back to each other, after all, their relationship is so important throughout the three books. Suddenly we just get some hints about some hay-rolling out of the blue in one sentence, without describing what leads up to it at all, and then an epilogue with two kids? I think Katniss and Peeta deserve more. Which is why I wrote this story. I have great respect for the author, I truly **__**love**__** her books, but I just had to write their story!**_

_**Okay, so this is where the story starts to deserve the M rating, so that's a warning for any kiddies who are still around - please turn back now. And for those of you who may be reading it just **__**because **__**of the rating, well, you've been patient with me. ;)**_

_**Okay, on with the show**_!

The days are growing shorter. It's still warm in the day, but every night we can feel that winter is coming. Peeta bakes apple cake nearly every day. Out in the woods, nature is getting ready for winter. The migratory birds are leaving. The trees are turning red, yellow, brown. In District 12, the humans are getting ready for winter, too, the harvest and gathering intensifying. The long winter is ahead of us, and with insufficient supplies coming in from outside our community, we have to make sure we have enough food to get us through winter. Our bedroom is growing colder, too, and the sheet is no longer enough. We're using more covers than strictly necessary, so we can still sleep naked together. It's an unspoken agreement – no barriers. Just Katniss and Peeta.

The air is crisp and fresh. Everything seems so clear in the cold air.

The nightmares are still there, but they are easier to endure now. Everything becomes a habit, I guess. We still have many sleepless nights, but for the most part, our nightmares are now of shorter duration. It doesn't take as long to calm either of us down after one of them, and more often than not, we actually manage to fall asleep afterwards instead of staying awake all night.

We huddle under the covers at night. I used to hate fall, dreading the winter and the intensified hunger. Now, with the house full of food, fall gives me an excuse to snuggle even closer to Peeta. At night, our hands communicate our love. The first night I realized that that was what we were really doing, I wondered why it didn't scare me? To love him. I'd always thought I would be too scared to love someone. Too damaged. It is safer to be alone.

And finally, on a clear October night, I tell him: "I love you." I say it very late at night, not knowing if he's asleep or not. Perhaps I'm too scared to tell him during the day, or even at a time when I'm sure he's awake. He's lying with his back towards me, I'm holding him tight, my smaller body fitting in perfectly behind his. His skin is burning hot against my chest. For a long time I think he's asleep, that he hasn't heard me. I feel almost relieved.

Then he turns around. His eyes are brimming with tears, and suddenly I realize that this is the first time I've told him. Really told him. Without anyone pressuring me to say anything. All that talk about love in the Capitol, acting for the cameras – it's never been real until now. I've told him I love him, and I didn't have to. I only did it because I wanted to.

He kisses me, lightly, like a butterfly. "I love you too," he whispers back. We lie there, kissing, repeating those three words over and over. Every time I practice, it feels a bit easier to say it. Our kisses grow more passionate. I know we'll be tired in the morning, that we never know how many nightmares the night may hold, that we should sleep while we can. But how can we even think of sleep on a night like this?

I feel free.

This night, for the first time, his hands venture between my legs. Throughout the long, hot summer nights, they'd be all over my body. But this, this most intimate part of me, he would never touch. Until tonight. My breath catches when I realize what he's doing.

"Is it okay?" he whispers, hot in my ear.

"Yeah," I whimper back, and that's the last coherent word I'm able to say for quite a while. My world contracts until all that's left in it are Peeta's hands, the feel of his warm skin against mine, and the sounds of our labored breathing. I didn't know how much I'd longed for this until now. His hands stroke me, carefully at first, exploring. My legs open on their own accord, it doesn't even feel like I'm the one moving them, allowing him complete access. This act of absolute trust seems to arouse him even more. He groans, moving his hip against me, biting me lightly in the shoulder. His eyes glaze over for a few seconds, but then he shakes his head, as if trying to clear it. He inhales deeply, and gently removes my hands from his cock.

"Not now, Katniss," he whispers hoarsely. "I'll… I just want to touch you. If you keep doing that, I'll…" I want to tell him that I want him to, whatever it is that he's trying to say, I want it, but his hand between my legs drives every coherent thought out of my mind. I whimper as if in pain, but it's the most exquisite pain I've ever experienced. I give up all thoughts of his pleasure, unable to focus on anything but my own.

His fingers explore me, tentatively at first, judging by my sounds what I like the most. At this point I like it all, but every time he finds a particularly sensitive spot, he grins widely. I didn't know my body had all these feelings or sounds inside it. "I love that you're so vocal, Katniss," he groans at one point, and distantly I think about Haymitch and how he said he'd hear us. How could he know, I wonder, but the finger that slips into me makes me forget. I know I must be dripping wet by now, and Peeta seems delighted at this find. My body tenses at the intrusion at first, but then it relaxes, allowing him entry.

I know he's never done this before, but he must be a quick learner. He reads me like an open book. I feel something build up in my belly, my thighs, my spine, until it suddenly shatters, my body twisting wildly, sounds I've never heard before being ripped from my lips.

Afterwards, I'm too exhausted to move, even to open my eyes. My breathing slowly returns to normal. When I finally find the strength to open my eyes, I look straight into Peeta's eyes. "You're so beautiful," he says, in awe. "The fire… You're amazing. Thank you." I feel that I'm the one who should thank him, but my lips aren't able to cooperate. "That's the most amazing thing I've ever seen, Katniss. You just… fell apart in my arms. Wild. Fire."

I realize he's still hard against my thigh. "You didn't…"

He shakes his head. "It's okay, Katniss. I just wanted to watch you."

"But I wanted you to…"

He silences me with a kiss. "This was perfect. Now go to sleep."

I obey, close my eyes, and drift off immediately.

_**There are only a few chapters left now, I'll post one each day. I hope you like it, please review! Thank you for your reviews and sweet PMs, I really appreciate it.**_


	16. Chapter 16

The first night I decide it's his turn, it's November. The sky is gray. All color seems to have left District 12. All that's left is gray, black, brown. Life has slowed down. The long winter is nearly upon us.

Since that first night, he's learned everything there is to know about my body. He's discovered just how to make me go wild. Nearly every night, he learns something new about my body, and so do I.

But he doesn't let me return the favor. He doesn't say why, but I have a nagging suspicion it might be related to the torture, the nightmares, the flashbacks. The hijacking. Were the twisted memories they implanted in his mind in the Capitol involving me doing things to his body, not him touching mine? Is my pleasure safe for him, but his own dark and dangerous?

I don't dare to ask him.

Yet I am aching to touch him, to watch his release as he does mine. Sometimes I force myself to keep my eyes open when I climax just to watch him while I do - the look of awe, love, passion and power on his face. Because yes, I can tell he feels powerful, and rightfully so. I've given him complete power over my body, and I revel in it.

But sometimes, afterwards, when he's fallen asleep, I feel empty inside despite my body feeling content and sated. There is still something missing. I love everything he does, I love that he finds my pleasure so important and arousing, but there is still **more**.

So one dark November night, I decide to take the plunge. He's sucking and gently biting on one of my breasts, one hand dipping into the wetness between my legs, eliciting deep, throaty moans of pleasure from me. My brain has become foggy, but with the small part of my brain that doesn't seem to be linked directly to the slippery skin directly underneath his fingers, I think that tonight, tonight is about him. It's about Peeta.

"Peeta, stop", I gasp. His finger inside, finding a secret spot in there, is making it very hard to talk.

He stops abruptly. He looks at me, worried. "What is it, Katniss? Did I hurt you?" His pupils are huge. His finger is still inside me.

"No, I'm…" I sit up, his finger slides out, which makes it at last marginally easier to speak in longer sentences than two strained words. "I just want to… You give me so much pleasure, Peeta. Every night. And I… I just want to do the same thing for you. Please, let me touch you? Show me what you like?"

Peeta sits up, too. He just sits there, unmoving, arms around his knees, back hunched for a long time. His eyes are closed. Then he reaches out a hand to me. His hand is shaking. I take it, kissing the palm of his hand lovingly. Slowly, licking one finger at a time.

The shaking stops.

I take that as a good sign. He lies back on the bed. Slowly, I make a trail of kisses up his arm, drinking in the feel and taste of his skin. I've done this before, but still it feels different somehow tonight. When I reach his shoulder and then lightly suck a nipple, like he just did on mine, he gasps. "Are you okay?" I whisper in his ear.

"Yeah," he breathes back.

He opens his eyes at last, and I hold his gaze, looking him deep into his eyes. "I love you," I whisper, as my hand moves further down, over his flat, muscular belly, down towards the blonde curls between his legs. I'm relieved and delighted to find him fully erect. He's large. I love the feel of him.

I search his eyes for fear, for doubt, for hesitation, but I find only lust. I cup his testicles in my hand, weighing them, and he groans. Now I'm the one hesitating. "Show me what to do?" I whisper, a bit embarrassed. He'd clearly done some homework before doing this to me for the first time, or perhaps it was because he had older brothers? Before the bombing. I, on the other hand, had a younger sister, and no close friends except Gale. There was no one to talk to or learn from. I don't have any tricks up my sleeve. I'm moving on instinct alone, but I'm suddenly feeling hesitant about how far my instincts are going to take me. I just want to give him as much pleasure as he's given me, and suddenly it feels like a daunting task. He takes my hands, guides them, showing me how to move, to stroke. The force and frequency were higher than I'd thought, my initial feathery light touch wouldn't have been enough. I'm grateful he trusts me enough to show me. He removes his hands, lying back, and I try to do as he's shown me. I'm hesitant at first, but I'm encouraged by first a sudden gasp, then him moaning, louder and louder. His sounds guide my speed, my touch.

"Katniss," he whimpers at one point, and I'm afraid I've hurt him, but instead he grabs my head between his hands, bringing my face up to his, kissing me deeply, devouring me, while my hands continue working on his cock. He finally tears away from my mouth, heaving, gasping for air like he's drowning. "That feels… incredible," he groans, and I feel like the most powerful woman in the world. Now I understand why he liked doing this to me, watching me.

This is fantastic.

I maneuver my body closer to his, hesitantly placing the tip of his penis against my folds, dripping wet, close to my entrance but not venturing inside, rubbing the head of his penis over my swollen clit. We both shout out as I do, and distantly I think that if Haymitch has his bedroom window open now, he's in for quite a show. I don't care. I don't care if the whole world hears us, the Capitol could've filmed the whole damn thing and aired it live with commentaries for all I care.

He's moving beside me, nearly desperate now, grabbing me clumsily, and I realize that somewhere in that fog of passion, he's trying to get inside of me, but he's not quite sure how to, perhaps he doesn't even know himself what he's trying to do, he's so far gone. A part of me desperately wants him, wants him all, want him inside, but I force myself to release his cock, to pull back just for a few seconds.

Tonight is about him, not about me. I **need** to watch, I need to make him come so I can see and learn and marvel. He's done this to me, for me, so many times, now it's my turn.

"Lie back," I order him, and to my surprise he obeys. He pants something I can't quite make out, but it may be something along the lines of "nearly coming" and it drives me on. I move down the bed, crouching by his hip, taking his now twitching cock between my hands, pumping even harder and faster than before, licking the head lightly, hesitantly. It tastes of… me, I suddenly realize. He screams as I do, a scream of pure passion. Then he comes, pumping out a sticky liquid on his stomach in waves. I watch in wonder.

It's the most amazing thing I've seen in my life.

His body, which has been taunt, writhing, nearly cramping, now slumps back onto the pillows. Spent. He's panting, his body is covered in sweat. I wonder if I should clean him up, I don't know what he expects, or even how to do it. I decide to just leave it there for now, taking in the foreign scent as I lie down next to him. His eyes are closed, and at first I wonder if he's actually unconscious, but then he opens his eyes. He blinks a few times, as if surprised to see me. "Hey there," he finally says, out of breath, his voice low.

"Hey there," I whisper back.

"That was amazing," he says. "You're… amazing."

"So are you," I whisper back, kissing him on his lips, his tongue meeting mine.

"When you… did that thing with your mouth, I was… I couldn't hold back. I wanted it to last longer, but I couldn't… Wow. Thank you."

"Thank you, too, Peeta," I say, serious now. "That was… The most beautiful thing I've seen in my life."

He falls asleep a few minutes later. He looks so content in his sleep, so young, all worries washed off his face. My own body is still throbbing with need, I nearly came myself just from making him come, but not quite. It takes a while for the fire to die down until I'm calm enough to be able to fall asleep beside him.


	17. Chapter 17

It is the night of the first snowfall of the winter. We come home, it's late. We've been outside all day, enjoying the end of fall, the beginning of winter. My hair has escaped from its braid, Peeta's been chasing me through the snow, we're both out of breath, laughing. Snow has fallen onto my dark hair, hiding in the damp curls. He catches up with me on the steps to our house, laughing, shoving me up against the door. His body pushes into mine, his breath hot on my face for just an instant until his mouth descends on mine, kissing me hard, passionately, claiming me as his. When I finally come up for air, I break away, gasping. He looks deep inside my eyes, his pupils dilated. I know mine are as well. Our breath is ragged. This moment seems to last forever.

No words pass between us, but we both know that it's time. Without breaking eye contact, he opens the door. He grins, lifts me up, and carries me inside the house, running up the stairs, laying me down carefully on the bed. He takes off his winter coat, then helps me out of mine.

How do I know? I don't know, I just do. It's time to tear down the final wall separating us.

I start ripping off my clothes, he's helping me, while tugging at his own. I giggle when he's fumbling with my bra, unsuccessfully, but finally we're both out of our clothes, getting under the covers, the bed is ice cold but we'll heat it up quickly.

We've been in a frenzied hurry until now, but suddenly we stop. He's lying on top of my body, supporting his weight on his lower arms to avoid crushing me, his nose just above mine. He's breathing deeply.

"Is this real?" he asks.

I smile. "Yeah." He doesn't react. I know which word he's waiting for. "Real."

"Are you sure?"

I pull him to me and kiss him before answering his question, and one of his hands slips in between my legs, coaxing. I tear away from his mouth, moaning "yeeeeeeees!" in his ear.

He laughs, a deep, low laughter which seems to make my body vibrate. He is fully erect, pressing hard against my thigh. I spread my legs, welcoming his hand. He knows my body so well now, knows just how to make me scream, beg and spasm. And I do. He kisses a trail down my body, over my belly, down between my legs, finally drinking me in. He's never done that before, and I think I'll pass out. I hear the sounds coming over my lips only faintly, as if they're coming from far away, the only part of my brain which is still able to process anything but the feel of his tongue brushing over my clit. I know that he loves hearing my passion, that it turns him on, and I don't hold back. "Peeta, I'm… I'm going to… Please, Peeta… Peeta!"

He knows what I'm trying to say. He moves up to my face, kissing me so hard I'm not sure what's his body or mine anymore. I'm tasting myself on his tongue and lips, smelling myself, heady, musky. I'm shaking, and so is he. Our eyes lock, and there is an unspoken question there in his eyes, as I'm sure there is in mine. I can hardly breathe. The answer is in there, too.

Finally, there are no barriers. Nothing between us. His shaft is thick and hard between my legs, he's moving his hips hesitantly, seemingly not quite sure how to proceed. I'm wet and so ready for him, but I don't know what he wants, what to do. He reaches down between us, guiding his cock with his hand to my entrance. He slips a finger just inside my opening, testing me, then another, opening me further. He slips the head of his penis in between his fingers, then holds his body still, allowing me to adjust. I hiss, my body stiffens. I've heard about this, this first time, hushed stories whispered in secret, sometimes bragging. Now that we're finally here, even though we've touched so many times, made each other climax, this is different. Peeta's body is shaking, I don't know if he's scared or just so turned on he's close to coming.

"I don't want to hurt you," he groans, and I can tell his brothers have talked about this, too. "Tell me when to stop."

I nod. "Go on, slowly," I say, and he does with a groan. His face twists, as if in pain, but by now I can differentiate pleasure from pain. I can feel my walls stretching, both welcoming and resenting this foreign intrusion. Peeta's eyes are starting to glaze over, and I distantly wonder if he'd be able to stop now if I asked him to. He's moving ever so slowly, entering me, inch by inch. My body suddenly clenches around him, and he automatically answers with a sudden hard thrust. A blinding pain sears through me, and I can't help but scream, biting his shoulder, hard.

He stops instantly. "I'm sorry, Katniss," he whispers, kissing my ear. He keeps his body still, for which I am grateful. "Do you want to stop?"

I shake my head.

"Am I hurting you?"

I nod. It's a struggle to talk. "Just… hold still. Right there. For a while."

"Okay," he breathes back. I can tell it takes a lot of self-control for him to keep himself from ramming into me at this point, but I'm grateful he's not. I force myself to breathe deeply, relax my body, adjusting. I know next time will be easier, but now, he's just so… huge. He feels massive inside me. And right. The intensity and intimacy of this moment brings tears to my eyes, but he misunderstands them, thinking I'm crying because I'm in pain. And I am, I am in pain, but I'm crying now because I'm so happy. I smile through my tears, whisper in his ear that I love him, that he can proceed, slowly.

He's not able to decline that invitation, judging from the look on his face, he's perilously close to coming. Slowly he keeps entering me, deeper and deeper, deeper than I thought possible. It doesn't hurt that much anymore, as long as he goes very slowly it's more of a discomfort and full, stretching feeling than pain. Finally, he's all the way inside, buried to his hilt. I let out a sigh. "Don't move, I'm about to come," he whimpers, almost in panic, and I stay completely still, hardly daring to breathe. Finally, he says, "okay".

He starts moving, hesitantly at first, constantly watching my face for signs of pain. He doesn't see any, it doesn't hurt anymore, it just feels… strange, wonderful, huge, confusing. My body's not used to the sensations that his cock are now stirring up in me, and doesn't quite know how to process them. I try to meet his thrusts, missing them a few times. We both giggle at our clumsiness, and the shared moment of confusion seems to bind us even closer together. One of his hands is on my breast now, kneading it, rolling a nipple between his fingers. I gasp, my body clenches around him, and he answers with a reflexive harder thrust. I scream into his mouth, but this time it's from pleasure, not pain.

I can tell this isn't going to last long. His face contorts, and suddenly he's coming, emptying himself deep inside me. I hadn't thought I was ready yet, I hadn't thought I'd come tonight, between the pain and the new sensations, but seeing his face as he comes, hearing him, suddenly drives me over the edge. The orgasm takes me by complete surprise, tearing my body apart.

I think I may have been gone a second or two.

When I come to, I open my eyes slowly, the world out of focus. All I can register is the shape of his face and the color of his hair. I blink, and he comes back into focus. He's still lying on top of me, still inside me. "Katniss," he whispers. "That was… You are…" He seems unable to find the words. "Are you okay?"

I nod, smiling. "You?"

He grins. "Yeah." He kisses me, and while kissing me he slowly pulls out. I whimper, my body is sore, yet already missing him. Something warm and sticky follows him, spilling onto my thighs. I move over, groaning. My whole body feels like it has taken a beating, yet it feels so warm and relaxed. I'm so exhausted I'm hardly able to move. Peeta looks down underneath the covers, and afterwards he looks worriedly at me. "You've been bleeding," he says, he looks guilty and terrified.

I smile a small, crooked smile. "And you wonder why?" I tease him.

"Are you in pain?"

I consider his question. My body almost feels detached from my brain. I grin, lazily, full of hormones, content. "I'm sore. I'll probably have a hard time walking straight tomorrow morning, and Haymitch is going to know instantly."

Peeta rolls his eyes. "You just had to bring him up, didn't you?"

I laugh. "Yeah, sorry. Honest answer?" He nods. "I've never felt better in my life."

He smiles back, kissing me on my lips, then my nose, then my forehead. "Me too," he whispers.

We just lie in silence for a long while. I can feel myself drifting off to sleep, cocooned in our heat, the smell of what we've just done together making me feel heady and dizzy, my body feels heavy and spent. Used. In a way it's never been used before. I finally understand why this was so important, why it took us so long. Why the Capitol tried to take this away from us. There is no going back now, the bond between us will never be broken. They can't break us apart. They tried to break us, but we fought back and won.

I think he's asleep, and I nearly am as well, but then he asks: "Katniss?"

"Yeah?"

"You love me. Real or not real?"

"Real."

We fall asleep. Outside, snow covers the ground in a white, silent blanket. Tomorrow is new day, full of promise.

_**This is the final chapter. I hope you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it! I'd also really appreciate it if you'd review my story now that it's finished, I'd love to hear what you think. :)**_


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